Sights & Sounds (of Ranka Court)

As most of you may know, I am on a sabbatical. This allows me to sit back and reflect on my life and tells me what I have been missing out on when I was working, partying and working in Bombay.

Life in Bombay (my dear Bombay!) is difficult and enjoying ‘personal’ time is a luxury most can’t afford themselves. Add to that the fact that the city has turned into a concrete jungle and this even takes away any chance of enjoying nature. Unless you stay close to Aarey Milk Colony, that is! For the rest of the city, there are hardly any gardens or parks where one can take an interesting book for company or just sit around and let the world pass you by.

Now that I am in Bangalore, I am trying hard to catch up with all that I missed when I was in Bombay (my dear Bombay!). Sitting in our house where the temperature drops with very passing hour (and those who have visited me will know how that happens!). And as if that wasn’t enough, we have the sounds of Ranka Court to keep us company. And not just any sounds, mind you, we have brooks flowing through our house at all times. Ok I lied a little there. But only a tad! And before you have visions of me living in some meadow with brooks flowing unhindered behind me and cow grazing in the background, let me explain…

It was a night like any other. The air was still. And cold. As it always is. Did I mention it was a dark night? When we moved into this house in Bangalore, we found the silence all around to be rather eerie. We were used to the hustle, bustle and noise of Bombay (my dear Bombay!) after all… and our complex is huge with well-manicured lawns, big trees all around and colourful flowers and potted plants (Anyone from my dear Bombay will know that landscaping and plants are a rarity in that city). And then there were sounds… Bhoot Bhoot!?! (Ghost, Ghost)?

…we have the sounds of Ranka Court to keep us company. And not just any sounds, mind you, we have brooks flowing through our house at all times…

All the bones in this five-foot-two inch frame of mine were in a state of shock. Tagging behind Mr. Scribbler, we knocked the door open and switched on the lights. To our surprise there was nothing. No taps were left open and no wet floor. We decided to chant some mantras and sleep and consoling ourselves that it must be our neighbours washing their bathroom windows because they weren’t getting sleep. This water thing went on for few days.

All right, I’ll cut to the chase! So on this particularly cold, still and dark night, Mr. Scribbler and I heard some water gushing around us. For a minute we thought it was heaven. And then we freaked.

We decided this demanded further investigation. So we investigated! Much to or chagrin, we found that this was no brook in a meadow with a cow, rather the innards of the walls that dear Mr Ranka had constructed to take the daily absolutions on their way to its rightful place. Comprende? Ok. One more time… these were the drain pipes of Ranka Court. And they ran (run) through the walls. Gross!

Believe me when I tell you that the sounds are absolutely identical to the gushing of a river or a brook. And at times, it even overpowers the sound of children playing outside in their cute little playpen that I can see from one of our balconies. Well, we can still hear the kids, but only if they are high on (the) grass .(Grass beds are found in the playpen area).

So the end result is that we have to tell every visitor at home we warn them about this ‘in house brook’, and beg them to think that they are indeed sitting by one!

Dear friends (and my dear Bombay!), as I type this, I can hear the water running down from the pipes. I have mentally tuned myself to this sound and by now, we even have a timetable of our neighbour upstairs… the number of times he visits the loo… never mind!

And then there are the other regular sounds like menacing auto rickshaws and cars (without silencers) that pass by in the middle of the night. No, we don’t stay under the new flyover being constructed, but the complex is so quiet, that we hear these vehicles pass!

I don’t know about you but have you heard pigeons coo? I think their cooing (or koochie-cooing, if you want), is most annoying. We have two balconies in this house… again a rarity in Bombay. The one which overlooks the playpen is where we dry our clothes (not the way they do in Bombay, my dear Bombay, for the world to see). These birds have made it their personal potty place-cum-maternity ward. They have made my life a living hell. I have to keep a constant check on these birds as they love to perch on the clothesline and drop their… well, droppings! I don’t know how they manage to do it… but I simply hate it when they make those annoying mating sounds.

I do enjoy these sights and sounds (of Ranka Court) vis-à-vis those of a noisy office with the constant ringing of telephones, clicking of keyboards and loud (sometimes VERY loud) men and women. Unfortunately, I cannot cast away my life being around the personal brook system (aka drainage) and the pigeons and perhaps it is time to update my CV… no?